


Rejuvenate

by Oceanbourne



Category: League of Legends
Genre: F/M, it's smut not but not too explicit, just a little something for sunday on tumblr, still just a heads-up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 02:27:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11454066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oceanbourne/pseuds/Oceanbourne
Summary: Sometimes she doesn't feel real.





	Rejuvenate

Sometimes she doesn’t feel real.

When he feels hands wrap around him, and palms lay on his chest, they are soft. Not the prickly embrace of branches around his shoulders, or cold earth and roots digging into his back. Living with paranoia as the motivation for him to wake each day makes the comfort of her touch feel like fantasy.

It makes him cherish each moment more, and treasure each chance they get to be alone. Perhaps this is how a sculptor feels, when he places his hands on his work and can enjoy it as his reality instead of just his vision.

When he pulls her closer to him he is again reminded that she is real, that the skin pressed to his is real, and the breaths that she lets out at his touch are real. He will take every memento he can get. He is no stranger to how fleeting the wind is, and how quickly she can leave.

(”My existence is nothing like how your human lives are,” she had told him. “If anything, I should be the one worrying about whether you’ll leave.”)

The end’s the same, isn’t it? No matter who leaves in the end, he’ll end up alone.

Yasuo places his lips to her shoulder. There are marks that crest along the bare skin there, like tattoos, but Janna has told him they are a lot more permanent. Sigils of her service to nature, an emblem of the wind. They trail down her back, along her shoulder blades. He makes sure to kiss them too.

“Yasuo,” she breathes, and his ears strain to catch her voice the way the children in the fields chase butterflies with their nets.

Her body shivers as he takes his time adoring her skin, and her fingers latch onto his shoulders. One of her hands presses onto his chest, and her head soon falls into the crook of his shoulder. Her body moves against his with a steady need as ocean waves crash onto the edge of a cliff.

He pulls back, cupping her face in his hand, thumb underneath her chin to turn her towards him. Janna’s eyes glisten, the way water lingers on the leaves after a stormy night. It never fails to bring a smile to Yasuo’s eyes. This must be real, he tells himself. My imagination can’t ever be this creative.

Janna leans forward and presses her lips to his. Her body pushes his with a force that requires him to catch himself with a hand placed behind him, as his other hand sits on her waist. Her hands fly around his neck, but she is careful to keep the motions of their kiss languid, like a river meandering its way to the sea.

He remembers the first time he and Yone received cinnamon sweets at a festival. His craving for satisfaction had doomed the treat to an early grave in his stomach, but that left him unsatisfied and jealous as he watched his brother savor his treat throughout the entire day.

Yasuo has learned since then to enjoy his bounty with a thorough patience. He bobs his head slightly in reaction to Janna’s advances, but never takes as much sweetness from one kiss as he can, so he can enjoy the sensation of the next.

So Janna begins to take the lead and dictate the pace of their actions. Her body sways with more and more purpose, and her arousal presses against his torso.

“I’ve kept you waiting, haven’t I?” he asks, as the hand that has sat on her waist grips the thin fabric on her body and pulls it down. First, just enough for his fingers to grasp her rear unobstructed. Janna hums in delight, kissing the side of his neck. She pushes him down towards the ground, laying on top of him, so that he can take both hands and pull the fabric down past her knees and eventually completely off.

Yasuo sits up again, returning his lips to Janna’s. He feels her legs wrap around his waist, a hand reaching for his and shoving it down. His fingers trail along her inner thigh, moving closer, brushing against her skin now and then before pulling back up…

“You are such a tease,” Janna pleads, and Yasuo smirks. Fine. He’ll permit himself to enjoy his sweets now.

He obliges to the wetness he finds and he tests her acceptance with a finger. His other hand reaches around to pull her against him, and he is rewarded with a gasp from Janna at the intimacy of both their torsos and his fingers at her center.

Once she is comfortable with him, he increases his pace. He is always amused with the way her breaths turn ragged, as if she loses her grip on the air around them when she gives herself to pleasure. His forehead meets hers, and her breath is hot as she moans in front of him. He continues pushing, steadily getting faster.

Janna takes his face into her hands, her eyes flickering and lashes beating back and forth like a butterfly’s wings. He looks into those eyes, and her irises turn grey like a storm. Faster. She whimpers. His thumb rises up to the top of her back, and then descends down her spine. Yasuo can feel her arch her back in response, and then Janna cries out.

She tenses at his touch. He can feel her come close.

“Come for me,” he whispers. “I want to hear my name on your tongue.”

And she cries out as she reaches her breaking point, trembling in his grasp. Yasuo pulls her towards him, and she shrieks into his shoulder. He can hear his name amidst her gasps - Yasuo! - a sound that echoes as the feeling of her climax washes over him. His fingers shake as well. Intimacy with Janna is an entirely different ordeal. She really is a force of nature.

As he lets her lounge in the grass, eyes closed from her exhaustion, he takes a moment to admire her form. She is at peace - he cannot think of anything more appropriate to signify that feeling, not even any concept that the Ionians have tried to explain through their teachings. He could never grasp such a sensation. But now it lies here before him.

A smile peeks its way through the sallow lines on his face as he sits down to cradle her form.

She has wandered her way into his reality, and that’s all that matters to him.


End file.
